Virendra Kamal Singh’s Memorable Trip to North East with Thrillophilia

You know how some trips start as jokes over dinner? That is exactly how this one began.

It was a lazy evening in late August when my friend and I were teasing each other about how we had not changed a bit since college, except for the grey hair. Our wives rolled their eyes and said, “If you both are so young at heart, why don’t we take that trip to the Northeast you keep talking about?”

We laughed. Then paused.

Two weeks later, our flights to Guwahati were booked.

In October 2022, the four of us (two couples), filled with life but still restless enough to chase clouds, landed in Guwahati to explore Arunachal Pradesh.

The Road That Whispered Back

Our journey began with the comfortable arms of Hotel Waii International in Bhalukpong. But it was Day 2, the drive to Dirang, that started revealing the soul of Arunachal. We passed rivers alongside us, hot springs filled with stories, and villages where children waved with such genuine joy that it made us wave back like kids ourselves.

Sangti Valley was where something shifted in me. I had expected beauty, but not this kind of stillness. There, in the vast openness framed by the Eastern Himalayas, we saw black-necked cranes in the golden fields. My wife stood quietly for minutes to soak it all in. I did not speak either. Some places do that to you - they replace words with surprise.

Dirang’s Awoo Resort had the potential to impress, but sadly, the service was as cold as the air. Still, we found our warmth in each other’s company and in cups of hot thukpa from a roadside stall that beat the hotel dinner by miles.

Tawang was More Than a Destination

Our arrival in Tawang marked the start of what I now consider the emotional heart of our journey.

Sela Pass felt like the earth's rooftop. At 14,000 feet, the oxygen was low, but spirits were sky-high. Snowflakes fell gently as we got off for pictures. I remember my friend laughing, saying, "This is the first snowfall of my life!" It was like watching a boy unwrap his first birthday gift.

Then came the Jaswant Singh War Memorial. I did not expect to be moved so deeply. But there I was, reading about the bravery of one man who held his ground against overwhelming odds. For a few minutes, none of us said anything. It was a silence filled with respect.

But Tawang Monastery was that place that felt like it was alive because it held a kind of quiet power within its walls. The monks, the prayer wheels, the chants - everything echoed a rhythm older than any city we had ever lived in. We did not want to leave.

We stayed at Hotel LN Stay, and for three nights, it became our home. The hospitality was flawless, the rooms were inviting, and the food felt like comfort wrapped in warmth. It was the kind of place where you start imagining what it might be like to stay longer.

One Road, Many Stories

The drive to Bum La Pass deserves a chapter of its own. As we climbed higher, the road began to vanish behind clouds. The journey was rough, but our driver, Sujeet Mandal, made it feel like a glide through heaven. His quiet confidence and gentle nature became the unsung poetry of our road trip.

At the Indo-China border, I stood still and watched the soldiers stand in the biting cold with a stillness that comes only from a deep sense of duty. The wind howled, but within me, there was an unexpected calm. I remembered stories my father told me of wartime bravery, and I felt strangely connected to this land.

Our next stop was Madhuri Lake, which looked like something carved from glass. We just sat by its edge, sipped tea from a flask, and watched the hills reflect on its still surface. No Instagram post could do it justice.

Taktsang Gompa was our last stop of the day, situated high at around 3,000 metres. Climbing up to it tested our knees, but rewarded our hearts.

Winding Down in Bomdila

The descent to Bomdila was bittersweet. We knew the journey was ending soon. Hotel Tsepal Yangjom welcomed us with simplicity, and that night, over a game of cards and warm soup, we talked more than we had in months. I think that is when I realised the real gift of travel: rediscovery of people you thought you already knew inside out.

The next morning, we visited Bomdila Monastery. The prayer flags fluttered wildly in the wind as if they were trying to speak. Maybe they were.

The final leg to Guwahati was long, but it passed like a dream. Hotel Park Riviera offered us a clean bed and good food, but by now, our minds were already replaying moments from the past week.

We managed a quick stop at Kamakhya Temple before our flight. It felt like a perfect end - a blessing before departure.

At the airport, Sujeet helped us unload our bags. He had been more than a driver; he had become a friend. I shook his hand, and he said, "Next time, Sikkim, sir?" I laughed, but something in me whispered, "Why not?"

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